Song Qiao Xi preferred sweet things in the morning—fried sugar cakes, red sugar fruit, sugar triangles, chicken leg bread, and red bean paste buns were some of her favorite choices.

Chu Jin, on the other hand, always went for savory breakfast foods like egg buns, zucchini and pumpkin buns, jianbing (Chinese crepes), and flatbread.

If it was a main meal, whatever dish she ate more of, Chu Jin wouldn’t touch.

After quietly observing for so many days, Song Qiao Xi concluded a pattern: Chu Jin’s tastes were completely the opposite of hers?!

He wasn’t fond of sweets and didn’t like meat either.

That’s surprising—he might be handsome, but when it comes to food, he’s a little lacking in taste…

Not liking sweets was one thing, but not eating meat? That’s a problem! He can’t grow tall without meat!

Ugh, this was giving her a headache.

How could she get Chu Jin to eat more meat?

Chewing on her spoon, deep in thought, Song Qiao Xi’s pondering was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Through the door, she heard the boy’s clear voice, hesitant: “Aunt Qiao, is Xixi home? I, uh, my grandparents’ house has some guests. My mom asked me to bring over some Wuxi spare ribs and preserved duck—those are her favorites.”

Why was Wang Junyang here? Didn’t he swear to stay mad at her?

She froze.

“Yangyang’s here, Xixi, open the door!”

Mom, holding two hands covered in soap bubbles called out from the bathroom, her body half-leaning out.

Seeing Xixi wasn’t moving, she immediately called again. “Xixi, open the door for Yangyang, Mommy’s hands are messy.”

“Coming!”

Song Qiao Xi finally snapped out of it and hurriedly responded.

Her hands were covered in oil from the red sugar cake, and her mouth was sticky. She grabbed the nearest tissue on the table and quickly wiped her hands, then jumped off the chair and ran to open the door.

Outside stood a boy in a blue Babo Bean outfit, his right arm covered in large, tattoo stickers from bubblegum.

His head was lowered, staring at the tips of his shoes, and he was holding a red paper bag in each hand, standing there quietly without a word.

“Yangyang’s here, come on in!”

Mom’s voice came from behind, warmly inviting Wang Junyang inside.

Song Qiao Xi stepped aside, making room for him to enter, and gave a small smile without saying a word.

So, what was this? Yesterday, he was swearing he’d never speak to her again, and today Xiao Wang stubbornly showed up like nothing happened?

“Auntie, my mom asked me to bring these over.”

Wang Junyang was still hanging his head, extending his hands with the two paper bags for Mother Song.

“Aiya, thank you, sister-in-law is always so thoughtful, always remembering what Xixi loves. Tonight, I’ll make your favorite sweet and sour pork, and Xixi can bring it up to you. Xixi, take these and put them in the kitchen, my hands are all covered in foam.”

Mom nudged her elbow gently against Xixi’s shoulder.

Song Qiao Xi quickly took the bags from Wang Junyang and carried them into the kitchen.

When she came back out, she saw Wang Junyang still looking gloomy, so she deliberately walked over to him and said with a cheerful smile, “Thank you to Aunt Wang, and also thank you, Yangyang.”

She then sat back down at the table, slurping the rest of her soy milk, while quietly keeping an eye on Chu Jin to see if he seemed upset.

After all, yesterday, Wang Junyang had inexplicably snapped at both her and Ding Yi, and although Chu Jin hadn’t said anything, his expression at the time had definitely not been good.

Now, Song Qiao Xi noticed that Chu Jin’s expression seemed to resemble yesterday’s.

She had only planned to sneak a quick glance, but even just that one glance was enough to distract her.

Chu Jin’s face was unreadable, with no curve at the corners of his lips, making it impossible to guess his mood.

A red string hung from his chest, holding a key, and his raven-black lashes cast a shadow beneath his eyes. His long, fair fingers held a spoon as he took small sips of soy milk.

By the end, little glutinous ball’s head was full of one question: Why was it that even when the older brother drinks soy milk, he looks so elegant…?

“You all play, there’s some Gatorade and Xurisheng in the fridge. Yangyang, are you staying for lunch? Auntie is making zhajiangmian.”

Mom closed the door with her elbow and returned to the bathroom, her voice mingling with the sound of running water that drifted into the living room.

When Wang Junyang heard “sweet and sour pork,” his almond-shaped eyes widened in delight, and he quickly agreed.

His southern relatives from his mom’s side had come to visit, speaking in a dialect he couldn’t understand. For lunch, they planned to eat things like fermented snails and drunken shrimp, which he found terrible and unsatisfying.

Having grown up in the north, he had a true northern appetite, and he believed there was nothing like Aunt Qiao’s sweet and sour pork. Honestly, he thought anything Aunt Qiao cooked was the best.

His own parents’ cooking was terrible, so he often went out to eat at restaurants. But after having so much food from outside, he still preferred home-cooked meals.

He really envied Chu Jin. He wished he could eat at Qiao Xi’s house every day.

Wang Junyang had come today to make up.

It was his first time having an argument with his friends, and it had left him feeling so frustrated.

Just thinking about it made him feel miserable. If he really had to cut ties with Qiao Xi and Ding Yi, that would be too boring.

The whole night, he hadn’t eaten well, hadn’t slept well, and had no energy to do anything.

So, when his mom’s relatives arrived, Wang Junyang volunteered to bring food to Qiao Xi. He saw this as a chance to make up, knowing that Qiao Xi had no resistance to good food.

His plan was to visit Ding Yi in the afternoon with a Transformer toy. Ding Yi loved his Bumblebee, and never let anyone else play with it.

That way, his two friends would forgive him for sure.

Although, although he still hated Chu Jin.

But for Qiao Xi, he decided to force himself to endure it. As long as Chu Jin didn’t upset him, he could pretend Chu Jin wasn’t there.

Seeing Wang Junyang still standing there, holding an empty bowl, Qiao Xi thought he was still sulking.

She turned around from her chair and asked in a good-natured tone, “What do you want to play later? The three of us could play checkers, airships, or even Monopoly.”

At this time, the TV was airing The Legend of the White Snake and Journey to the West, but she was worried the noise would disturb her father’s rest.

Chu Jin said nothing, silently got up, and started clearing the dishes from the table.

“Chu Jin…”

Fingers gripping the back of the chair, Qiao Xi turned her head and called his name.

The pale, handsome boy glanced at her before walking into the kitchen with the dishes.

What was going on with Chu Jin?

Why had he suddenly become so distant and cold…

Lately, it’s been obvious that Chu Jin’s body has gotten a little sturdier. Although he’s still quite thin, the scars on his legs have faded a bit, and most importantly, his overall mental state has improved a lot.

Except for the occasional flash of resentment in his eyes, most of the time, he’s a calm and aloof boy with a refined, distant demeanor, as if he doesn’t care to interact with anyone.

But that’s only with outsiders. With his parents, Chu Jin has always been polite and respectful.

The little glutinous rice ball thought about the lonely boy sitting in the train station waiting hall, the one dragged around like a puppet by his uncle, the one curled up in the dark corner of the duty room. Those images seemed to have disappeared, and it was hard to associate them with the Chu Jin standing in front of her now.

He was changing every day, and all the changes were for the better.

Although she didn’t know why he had been so distant today, she reminded herself that everyone has bad days sometimes.

She loosened her short little fingers from the chair’s backrest and decided not to think too much about it. Turning toward the kitchen, she cheerfully said. “See you at noon! Today, Mom is making the super delicious, invincible fried bean paste noodles. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

From the corner of the couch came Wang Junyang’s annoyed “Tch,” his voice grumbling. “If he’s so capable, then he can skip the fried bean paste noodles Auntie is making.”

His muffled tone sounded like he was burying his face in the couch cushions.

“Wang Junyang, don’t talk like that about Chu Jin.”

Song Qiaoxi turned her head, warning Wang Junyang who was lounging on the sofa with some displeasure.

“Little friend, you need to remember, today is about making up!”

“Okay, okay… I know, I’m sorry, Qiaoxi…” Wang Junyang’s apology was tinged with a tone of reluctant acceptance, like he had been scolded countless times before.

The leftover breakfast was covered with a green mesh dome by Chu Jin, who then collected all the dishes and utensils from the table and carefully washed them in the sink, standing on a small stool to reach. He was meticulous as he cleaned everything.

Song Qiaoxi peeked her head in to offer help, but was firmly shooed out of the kitchen.

Once the dishes were done, Chu Jin wiped his hands, politely thanked her mother, and, holding the key against his chest, disappeared through the front door.

As soon as Chu Jin left, Wang Junyang perked up, feeling like ‘the sun’s come out after the rain, and now he’s feeling capable again.’

He sprang off the sofa with a flip, then hopped over to Song Qiaoxi’s side. “Qiaoxi, what do you want to play? We can do a lot of things with just the two of us! Oh, my dad taught me how to play military chess before—it’s so much fun! There are two versions, one with flipped pieces and the other with hidden pieces. Want me to teach you? Should we go upstairs and get it?”

Seeing that she wasn’t too excited, he tilted his head and asked. “Or do you want to play checkers or Monopoly instead?”

“Anything works, what do you want to play?”

The little girl’s big eyes curved like crescent moons, filled with warmth and understanding as she looked at him, offering a small smile.

For a moment, Wang Junyang seemed to not recognize Song Qiaoxi at all. He stared at her, dumbfounded.

The Qiaoxi he knew before always had a bold, headstrong air about her.

She was like a little firecracker—fearless, always with a mischievous plan up her sleeve, getting him and Ding Yi into all sorts of trouble.

Her decisions were absolute; no one could disagree with her. It was all about executing her ideas to the fullest.

Wang Junyang admired this kind of boldness in Qiaoxi. Although she was a few months younger than him, he never saw her as just a little sister.

But at some point, Song Qiaoxi had changed.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or what had changed, but he could feel it.

Now, Qiaoxi was still the same when it came to her love for food, but she had become softer, cuter—almost like a little sister who needed protection.

“Let’s play military chess, you teach me.”

Seeing Wang Junyang deep in thought, Song Qiaoxi made the decision for him.

For her, it didn’t really matter what they played.

But she remembered that kids her age liked to play the role of the little teacher—it gave them a special sense of accomplishment.

She didn’t know how to play military chess, but since Wang Junyang had come to make up, she figured she’d let him have his fun as the teacher.

“Oh, then… wait for me.”

Wang Junyang snapped back to reality, feeling his face flush. He hurriedly responded before turning and rushing upstairs to get the military chess set.

As he climbed the stairs, the boy scratched his head, muttering to himself, “Why do I have such weird thoughts? She’s our fearless leader, the brave Qiaoxi!”

Did he just blush?

Phew, luckily he was quick enough—hopefully, Qiaoxi didn’t see him…

—

The whole morning, Song Qiaoxi and Wang Junyang, two little kids, were huddled in her small room, completely immersed in a world of “engineers” and “bombs,” having so much fun they almost forgot the time.

It wasn’t until Father Song woke up from his nap, the washing machine had spun the bedding dry, and he and Mom set up a drying rack in the boiler room to hang up the sheets, towels, and blankets that the kids finally lifted their eyes from the chessboard.

The two children lay on the bed, necks craned to look at each other, and with almost identical expressions, they said in unison, “Zha jiang mian!” (fried noodles, a Chinese noodle dish).

“I’ll go call Chu Jin.”

Song Qiaoxi glanced at the little bunny alarm clock on the bedside table, the hands showing 11:45.

She rolled out of bed, slipped on her slippers, and ran out without looking back.

Watching Qiaoxi’s retreating figure, Wang Junyang frowned and sat up on the bed.

While packing up the chessboard, he muttered under his breath, “Asking someone else to invite them to eat—acting like a grandpa…”

Little glutinous dumpling didn’t hear Wang Junyang’s grumbling, as she quickly changed into her crystal sandals by the entrance, bouncing and hopping like an excited little rabbit out the door.

Every day, except for breakfast when Chu Jin comes over himself, Qiaoxi was the one who goes to call him for lunch and dinner.

As long as she shouts outside the boiler room, Chu Jin quickly comes out, locks the door, and lets her pull him by the wrist, swinging him along as they head home together.

No matter what Qiaoxi says along the way, Chu Jin listens patiently, occasionally responding with a word or two.

Today was no exception.

“Chu Jin, come on, the zha jiang mian is ready!” Qiaoxi leaned on the windowsill of the boiler room, standing on tiptoe to call inside.

The boy quickly emerged, locked the door, double-checked to make sure it was secure, and then walked alongside her back home.

But by this point, the expression on his face still resembled the one from breakfast—slightly cloudy, even showing signs of turning more overcast.

The glutinous dumpling, used to holding his wrist, gave it two playful swings and tilted her head with a wide smile. “This morning, I learned how to play military chess! It’s so much fun! Do you know how to play? If not, I can teach you this afternoon!”

The small, chubby hand resting on his wrist was warm and soft, holding it with a light but steady grip.

Her voice, as sweet and clear as a little warbler’s, rose at the end of each sentence, making it clear she was in a good mood.

She had spent the whole morning playing military chess with Wang Junyang, and it seemed like they were having a great time.

But why had Wang Junyang acted so unreasonably and thrown a tantrum yesterday, yet the glutinous dumpling forgave him so easily…?

Could it be that Song Qiaoxi really considered Wang Junyang her “best friend”?

The usually calm and composed boy felt a brief, unexpected wave of sourness in his chest, a strange emotion that made him feel unfamiliar to himself.

Chu Jin turned his face to the side and softly replied, “No, you and Wang Junyang play together.”

“But I’ve already played with him,” the glutinous dumpling said openly. “He taught me. This afternoon, when Wang Junyang goes to find Ding Yi, we can play together!”

She spoke so frankly, not seeming to notice the change in his mood at all.

Her large eyes blinked twice, and her other hand reached out, both little hands gently grasping his wrist and giving it a light shake. She tilted her face up, looking at him with sweet anticipation, her voice as soft and sweet as ever. “Please, let’s play together. Military chess is really fun!”

Her bright, sparkling eyes curved into crescent moons, her cheeks rosy like a peach, and her fluffy, curly bangs stubbornly stuck up. She looked so adorably innocent and cute, as though she was coaxing him to play with her.

Even the usually stoic Chu Jin couldn’t maintain his frown and continued to resist her charm.

The bitterness in his heart slowly faded away.

In its place, a hint of sweetness, with a touch of warmth, replaced the sourness.

Chu Jin suppressed the urge to poke the glutinous dumpling’s soft cheek, curling his lips into a faint smile as his gaze drifted elsewhere. He let out a soft “Hmm” through his nose.

Suddenly, both children fell silent.

Chu Jin sensed something was off—the glutinous dumpling hadn’t said anything for a while, had she?

When he turned back to look at her, he was met with a pair of wide, almond-shaped eyes staring at him intently.

“…”

Chu Jin had no idea what Song Qiaoxi was thinking.

But then, the glutinous dumpling as if she’d discovered something incredible, nearly bounced with excitement. “You look so good when you smile! You should smile more!”

As soon as she said that, Chu Jin’s smile froze, and his usual cool expression returned. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the residential building, leaving her behind.

“Hey, wait for me! I’m telling the truth! Why are you mad? Anyway, I’ll come find you to play military chess this afternoon!”

The glutinous dumpling hurried after him, her little legs moving quickly with soft “thud-thud” sounds.

She had so many questions in her mind—what was up with Chu Jin?

“Got it…”

Chu Jin, walking ahead with his head lowered, murmured quietly in response. He deliberately kept his face turned away, not wanting Song Qiaoxi to see it.

His cheeks were burning hot now—his face was probably bright red.

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